How Hard They Both Wished
by ArmedWithAPen
Summary: When she died, Senator Amidala left behind not only her children, her friends, and her Republic, but a pair of dear friends...who both loved her terribly in their own, different ways. One-shot. Dorme/Typho and Padme/Typho. T  for mature content.


_A/N: I LIVE! And in celebration, my first little ficlet is a new pairing I'm playing around with...kind of for a mature audience, but nothing graphic. Anyway, enjoy! :)  
_

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They had both loved her. In their own special ways, they had both loved her.

She, the inexhaustible, pure, incorruptible force of the Galactic Republic, the last shining hope for a universe quickly plunging into darkness.

He, the gentle, beautiful, wonderful woman he had the immeasurable fortune (or misfortune?) to protect and serve, always the guardian, but never the lover.

They both loved her, each in their different ways, but united by the one act neither of them would have ever hesitated in committing.

They both would have died for her.

To say the sight of her, lying still and unmoving in blissful rest, as though she might awake from slumber at any moment, was poignant would be an understatement.

The image was downright cruel.

Standing side by side, Dormé and Typho watched, swathed in mourning black, as the shining Senator Padmé Amidala was laid to rest inside the cool stone sepulcher that held the other great nobles of Naboo, forever in gentle peace.

Typho lowered his one good eye as the stone doors sealed her away forever, and Dormé shivered beside him, her black veil masking the single tear on her face.

They stood there on the steps long after the other mourners departed, even Senator Binks, who, with a last sad glance at the doors and a gentle hand on Dormé's shoulder, left the pair to mourn by themselves.

Neither knew how the universe was going to hold itself together without Padmé.

When the winds rose and night began to fall, they left the steps, traveling the considerable walk back to Theed in silence. Black flowers and scraps of paper littered the streets where the funeral procession had made its solemn journey, tossed from high windows by grateful citizens paying their last respects to the Queen, Senator, and servant who had meant so much to them.

Inside the palace, the once vibrant atmosphere seemed dulled by a cold chill. The halls, lit by the first few stars of evening, were empty. Even the white marble appeared appropriately gray.

He helped her out of her cloak upstairs and brushed away the tears with trembling fingers. He missed her, but so did she, and some part of him realized neither of them wanted to be alone tonight.

Wordlessly, they crawled into his bed, not even bothering to change from their underclothes into nightshirts, and he pulled her close and turned out the light.

Somehow, she found herself kissing his neck, whispering quiet reassurances into his skin that everything was going to be alright, even though she herself didn't believe that. The Republic her mistress had fought so hard to keep had died with her, and it was only a matter of time before the universe followed. But he moved beneath her, matched her touches, and the emotions in both stirred as one.

He knew it was wrong, but as his underclothes followed hers to the floor, he couldn't help but feel there was a sense of right. One more night. One more night with Padmé was all he would ever wish for, all he would ever dream of, and he was being given it. She wasn't Padmé. But she could have been. She'd been with her always, she'd given her speeches, been her decoy, helped her through everything, and she smelled and tasted, and _was _Padmé, and that was all he cared about right now. The sadness carried him away, and as he made love to his Senator for the first, last, and imaginary time, he wasn't sure whether the tears on his face were his or Dormé's.

When it was over, and the diamond droplets of sorrow had been brushed away from both faces, they held each other once again as friends, hiding in the cocoon of warmth from the cold of night. Dormé knew she had loved Typho from the moment she met him, but knew he loved Padmé so much that, at times, it was painful to watch. Especially knowing Padmé loved another. She let him pretend for an instant, let him cry out for her in the dark, but when it was over, she collapsed on his chest, let him know it was over, and that she was Dormé and nothing would change that.

No matter how hard they both wished.

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_A/N: Well? What do you guys think? I actually kind of like this pairing, the more I think about it...anyway, pop me a review, and let me know what you think! _


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